


No More Maximoffs

by Moonlighter



Category: Avengers (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:58:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3309842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlighter/pseuds/Moonlighter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With reason to believe that the Avengers and X-Men are going to kill Wanda after her role in Disassembled, Pietro comes to Genosha but hatches a very different plan to save his sister and appease the rest of the world.<br/>An Alternative Universe take on the catalyst to House Of M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More Maximoffs

They were going to kill her.

He arrived upon Genosha in the middle of the night and found her in the highest of Magneto’s high towers, sweating and trembling amidst the throes of fever-dreams in a disheveled heap on the bed. She had already broken. He was close behind.

They were going to kill her.

For being sick, for becoming lost, for doing what she surely knew not and God only knew how, every friend they had in this world plus a few perfect strangers were going to come kill his sister. And it might even be wise.

“What are you doing here, Pietro?”

He wiped his face dry before thinking better of it. No fool, the Master of Magnetism, no stranger to the rules of emotional manipulation – this must need be the performance of a lifetime.

Pietro stood and turned not too slowly – nothing could seem suspicious. “I came to say goodbye,” which had enough truth; the road through honesty being his best hope to reach deception. His ‘father’ cocked a head sideways, askance. “They are going to kill her. The Avengers, Xavier and his X-Men – they are all meeting in New York, I just left there. They are going to agree it’s the only way, and they are going to kill her.”

“Pietro…” Magneto eyed the battered window beyond the child of his loins, if not the son of his heart, “they may be right.”

“DoyouthinkIdon’tknowthat?” Hot tears streamed down his face like blood pouring from an open wound, no acting required. “Do you think- you _know_ what she did, we _all_ know what she’s capable of now. Dear God, she could- Luna. Do you think I haven’t considered my own daughter’s safety? What if she woke up and decided that- it could even be an accident, _all_ of this was an accident, but what if…” It had never been easier to just let himself weep – it had never been necessary. “I can’t- I have to- Oh, God-d-d…” He cannot stop this. He has to let them kill her. Think it. Emote it. Believe it.

He had sworn always to protect her. First, a solemn vow to their loving father Django, who with his dying breaths begged them to run run run and so they fled the riot that claimed family and home. Next, he pledged himself to Wanda, as her guardian, her champion – and she his purpose, his absolution. Eventually he came to promise himself, his life for hers – his redemption by her protection, his honor through her virtue. Some things never change, but all things come to an end.

Shortly after Pietro crumbled to the floor at his feet, Magneto walked away in silence.

The door closed, reverberating a dull thud through the hollow room, barren save for the bed where Wanda thrashed. Pietro waited until the hairs on the back of his neck laid flat. Magneto never had discovered that his proximity caused such a physical reaction in his son. Blood calls to blood – and sometimes it screams to be far, far away. “Goodbye. Good riddance.” He breathed a sigh of relief that his true purpose went undetected.

“Brother…. Is it time?”

She spoke _Romani_ and with a small gladness he responded in kind – as though they had come full circle back to the beginning of their lives. “You heard. Forgive me. I did not speak delicately.” He joined her upon what might as well be a deathbed, sitting on its side.

She uncoiled to perch beside him. “I will not resist them, it is not within me. And I forbid you to do so. Please. This is hard enough –do not make me watch my friends destroy my family, I beg you.”

“And they would. Eventually.” They would have to, to get through him, to get to her. He wrapped an arm around her slumped shoulders. “I could take you away from here.”

“They would find us. Eventually.” They would have to, to safeguard the world, to avenge the fallen.

“….I know.”

“Pietro. I need it to be over. I want to be freed – of the guilt, the madness. So much despair and loss… I cannot bear it. I’m so sorry. I’m so _sad_. It hurts.”

“It was never supposed to end like this.”

“How was it supposed to end?”

“A better way. Saving the world.”

“I cannot. I no longer deserve the chance to try.” She leaned more heavily against him, tired and weak. “I am lost. Consumed by power beyond my control. I don’t even know if this is real… But our friends will still accept you – you can be an Avenger again. I wish you would. Go on in my stead, fighting by their side. It would honor me.”

“No, Wanda. You know what would become of me after this.”

He could bear losing her by natural chance, even by an enemy’s design. The prospect of an early demise, even an ugly one, is a risk they had both resolved to take upon becoming Avengers, and proudly so: a small price to pay for the honor to serve among Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. But for her to be forcibly stripped away from him, executed for crimes committed unwittingly, out of reasonable fear and the evilest of greater goods, would tarnish every joy left for him in this world. It would break his heart. It would ruin him.

“…I know.”

There they sat, arms entwined, fates aligned, coupled as though back in the womb, only one way out and whichever went first, the other inevitably to follow. Or so it seemed.

“They will be here soon. I can feel Charles trying to get inside my mind. I can feel our friends through him – they are afraid. Angry. They are not wrong to be.” Wanda wept as she spoke, “Forgive me. I have doomed you. Doomed us both. Always you have protected me, even when I grew to resent you for it. I would do anything to spare you now.”

“You cannot save me without saving yourself.” He felt her body begin to tense, he felt Xavier prodding at the borders of his own mind as well. “Wanda. Listen to me. I did not come here to watch you die, nor to sacrifice myself in your defense. I refuse to accept those options as our last. I refuse to surrender.”

“Pietro-”

“You cannot save me without saving yourself – so _do_ it! Look at me-” he twisted them round to face each other, “We cannot win by force, not us alone against the world, and you are right, we cannot hide, we cannot run forever. Maybe we should never have run.”

“What-”

“What if we never crossed the ocean? What if we never left home?” Wordless, she shook her head. “We were betrothed in our youth, have you truly forgotten? I asked you never to speak of it, it pained me so much, but you must remember, we _mourned_ them together.”

“I- we left because of our powers… it all went badly because of our powers.”

“Yes. What if not for that, too? Desmae. Do you remember? I have not spoken her name for a quarter century, but Desmae was promised to me, and you to Rynald her brother - he was few years older and my best friend, do you remember?”

“Yes. No! Pietro, I- I cannot do that. If I could change that much, I could _undo_ all of this.”

“Maybe you don’t have to change everything. Maybe you only have to make them forget. Wanda – we are almost out of time. Think. Xavier’s mind inside of yours and your powers merged with his. Make them forget they ever knew us, that we ever came here – erase us from their memories so they can go on with their lives and leave us in peace.”

“No, that- it’s too complicated!”

“Xavier is the most powerful telepath in the world! You can alter reality! And the human psyche is resilient, resourceful – it will work because their minds will make it work, their minds will create reasons why it makes sense. They will forget just the same as how we forgot our own mother’s dying screams, our parents’ very faces, the betrothed that we lost, the lives we should have had – because we wanted to, because we needed to, we did whatever it took to _survive_ , and we are still survivors today. _Fight_ , Wanda, please – save us!”

“But…” she cupped his face in her hands that trembled. “But then we must forget as well, my brother. Luna, Crystal. They would replace you in their minds, in their hearts, and you would never know their love.” He had not realized that he wept anew, until her thumbs swiped away the tears.

“Yes.” He took her hands in his, kissed them, and held on. “You and I must forget most of all. Our powers. Our jobs. These entire lives. Everything.”

_#Wanda#_

“They are here.”

_#Pietro#_

“Do it. I trust you.”

_#Do not run#_

“I- oh, God. I’m scared...”

_#Do not fight#_

“Be brave, and have faith. I love you.”

_#Let us help#_

“I love you.”

_#Wanda#_

 “Goodbye…”

_#STOP#_

*

**Author's Note:**

> While early and/or arranged marriage would not be unusual in Romani culture, the twins' betrothal (and would-be spouses' names) is not strictly canon.  
> (Though part of me might want to kind of write the next half of this story with the twins in their new lives, and it will be easier this way.)


End file.
